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Lucy hadn’t planned for the morning delight. Honestly, she only wanted to share some breakfast with Thomas and be on her way. She assumed he had to be exhausted from not only their hike, but working all night. This morning, she’d woken up to second day post-workout sore muscles, which she expected after yesterday’s walk in the mountains, but she had two perfectly working lungs.
Thomas had the endurance of the Energizer Bunny for certain, but even that bunny eventually ran out of steam.
Give him his food and go.
Give him his food and go.
That had been her plan, but when he answered the door wearing nothing, but sweatpants, her lust took over her brain.
Now, here they were an hour later before they sat down to eat actual food.
Both had stuffed their faces with Gabby’s tacos and orange bread before they came up for air. As Lucy watched Thomas finish another piece of bread, she couldn’t help but notice the scars on his body.
“Can I ask you something?” She pulled her legs up to her chest as she curled up in the chair across from him.
“Yep.” Thomas finished off the second breakfast taco and sat back. A look of bliss on his face.
“How much damage did the knife do to your lungs?”
He froze. “What?”
“I know you have lung damage. You’d have to. I see where those entry wounds were. You ended up with chest tubes from those injuries and now probably have some scar tissue.” Leaning forward, she held out her hand. “How bad was it?”
He took a deep inhale before exhaling a long breath. “You know, when I was a kid, I had asthma. Pretty bad case of it. Got teased a lot for needing inhalers. Dad didn’t help much with that either. Said if I would exercise more, think harder, better, it was all a state of mind and that if I wanted it bad enough, I could be off those inhalers.”
“What an awful thing to say to a child. That’s like insisting that megadoses of Vitamin C will keep you from getting vaccine preventable illnesses.” Wadding up the napkin in her hand, Lucy threw it out of frustration. “How archaic.”
Thomas agreed. “Taking my father’s advice, I decided I didn’t need them anymore. I exercised hard. Believed I could beat asthma. I quit taking them right before my twelfth birthday.”
“You quit. Just like that?”
“Yep.” Leaning back in his chair, he draped his arms over the armrests.
Disappointment settled in her chest at him not taking her offered hand. “You went cold turkey? How’d that turn out?”
“Horrible. Ended up in the ER then in the ICU for a couple of days before being admitted to the floor.”
“Your parents must have been worried sick.”
He shrugged. “My mother punched my dad in the ER when she found out what I’d done.”
“Nice. Good coping skills there.”
“That was pretty much their relationship. Fight. Make up. Fight. Make up.”
A nugget of sadness pinged her heart. Sadly, his story wasn’t unusual, but it hurt more because he’d experienced it. “Sounds chaotic.”
“It was, but there were two people who made the biggest impact on me that day. The ER doctor and the asthma nurse.”
“Glad you had someone watching out for you. Asthma can be really scary.”
“That doctor saved my life. That nurse gave my life back to me.” Thomas yawned and stretched.
“How so?” His response made her look at her watch. “Maybe you should go to bed. It’s past nine. You’ve been up since yesterday.”
“Maybe, but this nurse. She showed me and my parents how to manage my asthma really well. Gave me a plan.”
As he spoke, Lucy pulled the covers back. “I guess that worked out well.”
He paused. “Got off inhalers by the time I got to high school and through puberty. I’ve never had to take them again, until a couple of years ago.”
“How much damage did the attack cause?”
“He stabbed me a few times. Lost part of my upper left lobe, but some of the lung is still there.”
Lucy couldn’t help but grimace. “How long did they say recovery would be?”
Thomas played with the seam on the armrest. “It’s been long enough for me to know if I’ll get one-hundred percent back if that’s what you’re asking. I haven’t.”
“How much have you gotten back?”
“More than most. Less than some.”
“That’s a nice evasive answer. Obviously, not enough to make you happy.”
“No. Marietta has been good for me, though. I do feel better, not one-hundred percent better. It sucks.”
Lucy held her hands out and pulled him to his feet. “Why does it suck?”
“Hate being dependent on anything.”
Holding his arms out, he motioned for her to come to him. She snuggled into his bare chest. “Inhalers are no different than insulin or heart medication. They help us live better quality lives with what we have.”
“They make me look weak.” He yawned again and Lucy pulled away, guiding him to the bed. “After how intensely you hiked yesterday, worked last night, and faired this morning, I’d say you’re anything but weak, Thomas McAvoy.”
“I still hate needing them.”
“Right now, you need sleep.” She snapped her fingers. “Come on, off you go.”
“You’re so bossy.”
“That I am.”
Thomas gave her a slow blink and crawled beneath the covers.
“Sweet dreams, Thomas.”
“After this morning, I’ve got enough to keep me busy.”
When she tossed the trash away, a wad of something hit her and fell to the floor. She turned and saw his pants at her feet. Looking up at him, he had a mischievous, sleepy grin on his face. “Can’t sleep with clothes.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Her body tingled, remembering how he felt against her, in her. How he kissed. Tasted. If he weren’t so exhausted and if she’d brought condoms, she might consider crawling into that bed with him and giving him another thing to dream about.
A soft snore filled the room, making her smile.
When she threw the trash away in the bathroom, she noticed his medications on the counter. The dreaded inhalers he hated and she could understand why. She had heard frustrations from patients over the years for needing any chronic medication, but this time, Lucy couldn’t help but say a silent thank-you. Because without them, Thomas wouldn’t be here.
Without them, she wouldn’t have found someone to fall in love with.
Love?
The word hit her as she began to leave. She glanced back at him sleeping and the word whispered to her again.
Love.
Dammit.
